There's No Place Like Home
by Stratagem
Summary: Growing up in a small town can be an adventure, if you happen to curious, clever, and courageous. A short story collection about Elizabeth and Jack's children.


Disclaimer: I don't own When Calls The Heart, I just think it's precious and wonderful! :D

A/N: I like family fics and have no patience, so here's a family fic about Elizabeth and Jack's future kids! They have four little ones: Jack Jr. (Jay), Cecily, Isaac, and Lydia. These ficlets will probably bounce all over to place time-wise, so I'll always write what age the kids are at the top of the chapter/story. So in this one Jack Jr. (Jay) is 10, Cecily is 8, Isaac is 5, and Lydia is 4.

 **There's No Place Like Home**

In Which Cooking Is Not a Thornton Skill

Mealtimes were always interesting at the Thornton household. While Elizabeth had certainly improved as a cook over the years, it had always been clear to her children that cooking was not their mother's favorite pastime. Or her best skill. She was a fantastic storyteller, a masterful nurse, and the best teacher ever, but a chef she was not. And while their pa was obviously the bravest man in Canada and, yes, the world as well, he couldn't cook much besides deer, rabbit, and fish.

Therefore, teaching the kids to cook hadn't ever been at the top of the Thorntons' to-do list. Their Aunt Abigail certainly would have tried to tackle the task, but she hadn't yet realized how much the kids were in need of a lesson or two.

Or a year's worth.

The necessity became apparent, however, when the Thornton kids attempted to cook a surprise breakfast for their parents after their pa had come back from a couple weeks at a different posting.

Jay, the eldest, woke up long before dawn and slid out of bed after his eyes adjusted to the dark, his bare feet silent on the carpet over the wood floor. He crept over and shook Isaac's shoulder. "Isaac. Isaac, get up."

The five-year-old simply rolled over and pulled his pillow over his brown-haired head. He wasn't exactly an early-riser. Nope, that award went to Lydia and Jay. Cecily was going to be difficult to wake up as well.

"Isaac, if you don't get up, I'm going to get some water. Then you know what I'm going to do?" Jay grabbed his brother's pillow and yanked it out from under his head. "I'm going to pour it all over your drooly face."

Isaac grumbled and held up his hands as Jay grinned and smacked him with the pillow. "I want a new brother. I want Max to be my brother." Max was Lee and Rosemary's eldest son and Jay's best friend. He was also noticeably less rough and tough then Jay and had a level head, probably because he was always trying to dissuade his mother from trying some crazy scheme.

"You can't switch brothers," Jay said, dropping the pillow onto Isaac's head. "Now get up. We have to wake up the girls so we can fix breakfast for Mama and Pa. Remember? We talked about it last night."

Isaac shook his head and rolled over again. He burrowed back under the covers, prompting Jay to start playfully smothering him with the pillow while hissing his name over and over. Finally, Jay resorted to tearing the quilt off his brother and walking out into the hallway, leaving him shivering in the chilly October morning air. He could hear Isaac fussing even as he crossed the hall, quiet so as to not wake up their parents.

Cecily and Lydia's door was cracked open, so he only knocked for a second before pushing it. Lydia barreled out of the room and collided with his stomach, giving him a traditional good morning hug. While she was a quiet little girl, Lydia was very affectionate with her family, always giving out hugs and kisses and snuggles. It was embarrassing around his friends, but Jay liked the hugs when he was at home.

"Hey, Mouse," he said, giving her dark auburn hair a quick tug, "Ready to make some pancakes?"

"No, bis-quits," she said, "Let's make bis-quits."

"Eggs would be easier," Isaac whispered as he stepped out of the boys' room. He had dragged on some overalls but hadn't bothered with a proper shirt, and the hair on the left side of his head was sticking straight up. He looked like a ragamuffin, as Pa would've said.

"We can make all of it," Jay said with all the confidence of one who has recently aged a full decade. At ten years old, he was practically an adult anyway, and if he thought they could cook a full breakfast, they were going to do it. "Bacon, too." What was breakfast without bacon, anyways?

At that moment, Cecily appeared at the doorway, a grumpy look on her face. Morning really wasn't her best time of day. "Oh, if that's all, then why don't we just make a quiche and some cake and a whole ten-course breakfast?"

"Don't get all snippy," Jay said. He gave her a big crooked grin and tugged on her shawl. "We can do all that, if it's what you want, oh grand Queen o' the Hearth."

Cecily stepped toward him and clamped a hand down over his mouth. "Hush up, Jack Junior."

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, or Pa and Ma will hear."

The Thornton brood crept down the stairs, skipping the third step that squeaked whenever someone stepped on it. Maybe now that Pa was home, it would get fixed a little faster. Jay had volunteered to fix it, but after the last incident with the stable and the nail in his foot, their parents thought it was better if he kept away from carpentry for a little while.

When they reached the kitchen, Cecily trudged over to the stove and started working on the fire. It was banked from the night before and needed feeding before they could fix any food on it. Jay lit one of the lanterns and then turned to the younger ones, his hands on his hips.

"All right, troops. We need fresh eggs and milk. Think you two can handle it?"

"Yeah, guess so," Isaac said. He was still rubbing at his dark brown eyes, looking like he'd rather be back in bed.

Lydia didn't say anything, but she did bite her bottom lip and look at the window. It was still dark outside. Jay relented at his little sister's fear and lit a second lantern. "Here, you can take this with you. Get the milk and eggs together, all right?"

Isaac took the lantern in one hand and took Lydia's hand in the other. They slipped into their boots and left out the kitchen door, leaving the two eldest behind to start fixing breakfast.

"You're sure we won't get in trouble for using the stove without anybody around?" Cecily asked, raising as eyebrow as she got out a few bowls for mixing biscuits and cracking eggs.

Jay grinned as he gathered together sausage and bacon. "They're gonna be so happy that they don't have to cook that they won't care we used the stove." He rolled his eyes at his sister. "I've known them longer, so I know they won't get mad."

"I'm only two years younger," Cecily said, "So you haven't known them much longer than me." She had bright red hair, a lot like their aunt's, and her eyes were light blue. Brown freckles dashed over her nose and cheeks.

Jay had inherited his father's blue-green eyes and his mother's reddish-brown hair, but his impish grin belonged to his uncle, or so his pa and grandma always said. "Two years is a lot."

The two of them fell into an argument about how long two years really felt while they waited for Isaac and Lydia to come back to the kitchen. While they bickered, they worked on preparing breakfast and stoking the fire. When the stove was hot enough, Cecily put a pot on one of the burners to heat up water for grits.

When the kitchen door opened, Isaac stumbled in, carrying the weight of a pail of milk, while Lydia carried the lantern. She set it down on a stool and then pulled a few eggs out of her pockets.

"Hildegard was mad about being milked so early," Isaac said, "I think the milk might've soured, she was so grumpy."

"The chickens didn't get mad," Lydai said with a small smile.

"Well that's good," Cecily said.

The four Thornton kids worked in sync around the kitchen, each of them trying to help out with the breakfast. Soon enough, there were biscuits in the oven, oatmeal and grits on the stove, and bacon and sausage sizzling in a pan. While Cecily watched the stove, Jay smirked over at Isaac.

"Bet you my morning chores that you can't beat me in an arm-wrestling match," he said.

"That would be true," Isaac said, "I can't beat you. So why would I try?"

"Come on, don't you want to try?"

"Not particularly…"

"Don't let him pick on you, Isaac," Cecily said, turning away from the stove, "He's just bored."

"Jay, be nice," Lydia said, her lower lip poking out.

"I'm not bored, I'm trying to teach my brother how to arm-wrestle." Jay grinned at Isaac and put his elbow on the table. "Let's go, little brother."

"Can't we do something else…"

"I'll play chess with you later if you arm-wrestle me now."

Isaac put his elbow up on the kitchen table. "Promise?"

"Yeah," Jay said, and the two of them locked hands. Obviously Jay was going to win, since he was five years older, so the girls weren't interested in watching the match. Instead, Cecily decided to braid Lydia's long auburn hair. Everyone's attention quickly drifted from the cooking food.

At least until the bacon starting the blacken and smoke began to drift from the oven.

"It's on fire!" Cecily cried out, dropping Lydia's hair and backing away from the stove. Smoke began to fill the room, wisping around the ceiling. It was amazing how quickly breakfast had turned from a surprise to a disaster.

"Get the water bucket!" Jay shouted, jumping up from the table and racing toward the stove. "Isaac, Lydia, get back!"

"I can help," Isaac declared, "We need sand, you can put out a fire with sand."

Lydia took off toward the stairs, scrambling up the steps as quick as her little feet would take her. She dashed down the hallway, flung open her parents door, and raced over to her father's side of the bed. He was already sitting up, having been startled by her tossing the door open.

"Ly…"

"Kitchen's on fire," she said, wide-eyed and shaking, tears springing to her eyes. Jack was immediately out of bed and down the hall, thundering down the stairs while Elizabeth hurried after him, carrying Lydia.

"Pa!" shouted Jay before he started coughing. He and Cecily had gotten the fire out by soaking the oven, but the air was full of smoke. Cecily and Isaac were at the kitchen door and the windows, wafting the air with kitchen rags to try and move the smoke out of the room.

"Jay, what in the world is going on?" Elizabeth demanded, appearing right behind Jack.

"We wanted to cook breakfast," Cecily said.

"It didn't work," Isaac said bluntly.

"Everyone out," Jack said, shaking his head, half-amused and half-worried, all with a dash of anger. He crossed the room and herded the kids out the door and then went back in to make sure the fire was out. Elizabeth stood in the yard with her brood as the sun rose, and the kids tried to explain their intentions. She tried not to smile, but it was hard when they were so earnest and sweet about the whole thing.

"You knew not to use the stove without us," she said, watching them as they stood there with chagrined faces, "But you were trying to do something nice…"

"So that means we're not in trouble, right?" Jay said with a big, innocent smile.

"Oh, no, you're definitely in trouble," Elizabeth said with a nod, "I'm just saying that your heart was in the right place."

"To start with, you're going to clean up the kitchen," Jack said as he stepped out of the house, wiping his hands on a cloth, "Or you will once we get back from breakfast."

"Are we going to eat somewhere else?" asked Isaac.

Jack took Lydia from Elizabeth and set her on the ground. She hugged his leg and he ran his hand over her messy braid before giving Elizabeth a long-suffering smirk. "Hopefully Abigail will take pity on us and open the café a little early."

That got a happy whoop out of the little band of Thornton hooligans, one that they quickly suppressed when their parents gave the "The Look."

After that adventure, cooking lessons with Aunt Abigail became a weekly event.


End file.
